Jasper County Democrat, Volume 9, Number 48, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 March 1907 — Jerry's Find. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Jerry's Find.

By A. M. DAVIES OGDEN.

The morning, brilliantly clear, was frosty and cold. Big Jerry Callahan, blowing the tips of his fingers, red from holding the reins of the patient horse that pulled the half empty milk wagon, and contemplating the thought of arguments with angry cooks over •the short allowance of milk that the weather Imposed, felt his spirits sinking even lower than the mercury. And adding to his depression was the recollection of Kathleen—black eyed, pretty Kathleen—who had chosen to attend the annual ball of the Shamrock society with fat Tim Donnelly. Brass buttons have always attracted the feminine eye, and Tim as he strutted along In his snug fitting blue uniform, twisting his billy, was a fine figure of a man. Callahan, admitted that, albeit grudgingly. Yet, despite his good looks there was a something about the'policeman which Jerry vaguely distrusted. And Norah had gone to the ball with him. Turning back to his wagon after a heated discussion during the course of

which an Irate maid had accused him of filling her bottles from the loose milk can, a subdued whimper caught his attention. On the curb, her white fur edged coat sadly dirty, her chubby face stained with tears, stood a baby, a tiny girl baby of about three years, lost clearly and sobbing softly to herself. Jerry scratched a puzzled ear. He could hardly leave her there alone. She was too small and helpless for that. Besides, the mite was shivering with fright and cold. Yet his duty was to deliver his milk. And no amount of careful inquiry could elicit more than the fact that her name was Muriel and that she lived on Fifth avenue. After a moment's consideration he swung her to the seat, wrapping her well in an old blanket. The tot, reassured and happy, cuddled more closely under the friendly shelter and looked up with a trustful smile. “Muriel’s hungry,” she announced. When a second bottle of milk had followed the first, affairs began to look grave. Already short on his orders, the loss of two more bottles might Involve him In serious trouble. But to fall those confiding blue eyes! Jerry rfhook his head as he whipped up the old white horse. The baby should not suffer. And he found himself watching the child with a perplexed frown. There was something oddly familiar about the little face, the rippling golden curls. “Sure ’tis only that all babies do look alike, then,” was his masculine conclusion. “They’ve all yellow hair and blue eyes.” * Callahan’s expectations were fulfilled. The last customers were very

gry indeed when their full quota of milk was not forthcoming, and dire were the threats of complaint at headquarters. ‘ “Sure ’tls my job tjiat I may be after losing,” reflected Jerry, with a rueful smile at the placid young person beside him. “But It can’t be helped now,” a true Irish philosophy coming to his aid. “So here goes for the station house.” In the precinct room the inspector looked up keenly as the Irishman came in, carrying a tired, sleepy bundle. Lost children were common enough, but today excitement had run wild and high. “I found her this morning early,” explained Jerry. “I met her on me round.” “White dress, white coat, pink shoes and stockings,” itemized the sergeant rapidly. “It’s she, all right. Why couldn’t you have turned her in before?” wheeling angrily upon the startled Callahan. “Don’t you know there’s been the devil to pay about this?” “Don’t I know there’s the devil to pay for the three bottles of milk she’s drunk on me?” retorted Callahan. “How about that? It’s a pity I hadn’t left her to be run over by a team or an automobile. I’d have been thanked then, I suppose,” with fine sarcasm. - “No talk, please,” rapped out the sergeant curtly. “Send Donnelly here as soon as he comes in,” he added on the telephone. “You wait,” to Callahan. It was a very excited Donnelly thai half an hour later rushea into the room, a Donnelly who swore fluently and fast. Detailed specially on the case, for hours he had been scouring the streets In search of a child with white dress, white coat and pink stockings.

“And you to have had her all this time!” was his exasperated ejaculation. “I’m not sure but it’ll be abduction that’s charged against you. To keep me busy this way!” “ ’Twas hard, I admit,” agreed Jerry blandly. “It must be an unusual feeling. And whose child is it, then, that you're so keen about it?” curiously. Tim Donnelly’s face changed as though he had suddenly remembered something. With an elaborate appearance of unconcern he leaned forward to take the child from where she still nestled in Jerry’s strong arms. “Oh, sure that could make no difference to you,” he said. “I’ll not be keeping you any longer. Good morning, Mr. Callahan.” “Good morning,” responded Jerry, lie had no desire to stop longer. But the baby, now broad awake once more, thought differently. She wanted her nice man; she must have her nice man. And, held by Donnelly, her disapproval found vent in no gentle manner. In vain the sergeant, the matron, sought to interfere. In vain Donnelly strove to soothe, to propitiate, while Jerry stood shifting from foot to foot. Her nice man she wanted; her nice man she would have. It was upon this scene that a trim, smart looking nursemaid distractedly bdrst. “Muriel! Oh, Muriel!” she cried, snatching the baby from Donnelly’s arms. "Muriel, dear, are you cold, are you cold, are you hungry ? Muriel, Muriel,” in deepest reproach, “why did you run away from poor Kathleen?” Jerry, taking in the situation, uttered a smothered gasp. So this was old Stockton’s orphan grandchild, the little heiress to his millions and Kathleen’s charge. No wonder Donnelly had been so anxious to get him away.

“She ran downstairs from me this morning,” explained the tearful Kathleen, “and she must have slipped out under cook’s very nose. Sure she might have been killed or hurted. Oh, Mr. Donnelly, how can I ever thank you enough for finding her!” with fervent gratitude. “ 'Twas nothing,” murmured the complacent Donnelly, “nothing at all.” Callahan turned away. Let Donnelly take the credit if he chose. It was all over between himself and Kathleen, anyway. What was the use of saying anything? But the baby, perceiving his retreat, set up her wall. “My nice man, my nice man," she stormed again. Jerry, reluctantly avoiding Kathleen’s astonished eyes, stood twisting his hat. “Sure, as Mr. Donnelly says, ’twas nothing,” he stammered. “I—l met her on my rounds this morning”— “An’ he w’apped me up an’ took me to dwlve an’ dave me milk,” put In the baby girl triumphantly. “He’s my nice man, an* I love him. Kiss him, Kathleen.”

“You—you found her?” cried the crimsoning Kathleen. “Why—but I thought—l understood,” turning swiftly upon the discomfited Donnelly. “Didn’t you say”— I “I said she was here,” muttered the mortified policeman. “I—l telephoned she was found,” his flush deepening under Kathleen’s eyes. “Oh,” said Kathleen slowly. “Oh,” a significant “oh," long and full of meaning, “I see. And It was very kind of you to send word, Mr. Donnelly* I thank you, Jerry.” She moved closer to him, while a mute plea for pardon shone In the soft black eyes. "Sure ’twas mistaken I’ve been, Jerry.” The note of appeal In the wistful voice gave a far wider meaning to the simple words than their sense implied. “Won't you take us home? I’m sure Mr. Stockton will be wanting to see you." (Timidly.) “I go with you, Kathleen, anywhere,” was the loyal response. The sergeant smiled. “’Tls easy enough to see how It is with them,” he commented, turning back to his work. “Well, I hope old Stockton will do something handsome for them.” And after a good scolding to Kathleen old Stockton did.

IT WAS UPON THIS SCENE THAT A SMART LOOKING MAID BURST.